


A Less Than Perfect Day

by FlannelGuy51



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Gender Dysphoria, I needed this fic so I wrote it, One Shot, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 12:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20435837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlannelGuy51/pseuds/FlannelGuy51
Summary: It was supposed to be a perfect day. Dysphoria had other ideas.Or: Peter Parker is trans and Flash is a total jerk about it. Tony Stark is more than ready to comfort him.





	A Less Than Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: transphobia, transphobic/homophobic slurs, bullying, descriptions of dysphoria

It was supposed to be a perfect day. Mr. Stark was finally coming home from a long two months away, tying things up with foreign governments and whatnot alongside the other Avengers. He’d promised he’d drop by and see Peter, and Peter wanted to make sure that it would all be perfect. Balloons were set up, a cake was made. Tony and Happy were practically a part of his and May’s little family, and Peter decided that they needed to be treated as such.

When Peter woke up to get ready for school, he immediately felt excitement wash over him. He sat up and, without thinking about it, looked down to the ground where his feet were about to step to get out of bed. The bump in his shirt caught his eye and suddenly he felt sick. A wave of nausea overcame him and he felt a bit dizzy. He forced himself to look forward, up, anywhere but down.

Peter quickly stepped out of bed and went over to his dresser, digging through it to find a binder. For some reason, none of them were in there. Peter felt himself start to panic.

_It’ll be fine,_ Peter told himself, trying to force a smile. _Aunt May probably just...moved them is all._

“Hey, May!” Peter called, pulling on a sweatshirt as he stepped out of his room. “Where are my binders?”

May was busying herself in the kitchen, tending a pan on the stove and trying to flip...something. “Aren’t they in your dresser?”

“No…” Peter inhaled the scent of what was on the pan. Omelettes? “I need to get to the subway soon…”

May pulled the omelette out of the pan and put it on a plate. She handed it to Peter as she walked by. “Let me see…” May went over to her room and stopped suddenly.

Peter could sense the change in her manner, the sudden stiffness. “What?”

“Oh, Peter…” May said, walking over to him with a look of mixed sadness and worry on her face. “There were already some in the basket and one on the ground and...I must’ve put them in with the wash.”

Peter felt his stomach drop. His mind started to spin as he thought about his chest, the implications of going to school without his binder on. He hadn’t done that for at least a year, not since he’d socially transitioned and May has bought him his first one.

“Oh, God…” he said, sitting down on the nearest chair. “Could we...could I…?”

“I have work, sweetie,” May said, looking at him sadly.

“Couldn’t I call in sick? Or something? May, please—”

“After the incident in Washington, your principal left you on probation, remember? Any excused absence requires me to come in, and today I just can’t, Peter. I’m so sorry.”

“But that’s bullshit!” Peter exclaimed. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Normally May would correct him on his language, but she couldn’t bear to do such a thing right now. All she could do was pull him into a hug and help him let everything out.

Stepping onto the subway wearing a sports bra instead of a binder felt almost unreal. Peter was hyper-aware of every one of his movements, the way that it might show off his chest from under his sweatshirt. Most people looked once and away, no big deal. Even so, there was the occasional stare, the occasional confused look. Peter could practically feel his skin crawl.

He popped his earbuds in as soon as he could and turned up the volume. Even with his eyes closed, his stupid spider-sense made him sense every movement on the train. Between his dysphoria and the rattling of the subway, Peter was sure he was going to be sick.

Walking onto the school grounds felt like some kind of nightmare. Kids were everywhere, each one looking at him as he passed by. Peter knew it wasn't because of his chest, it was just because he was there, but he couldn't help but tense every single time.

_Please don't see Flash, please don't see Flash,_ he thought over and over.

Peter made his way to his locker in a daze and started dialing in the combination. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He practically jumped up onto the ceiling.

“Whoa, dude!” Ned exclaimed. “It's just me.”

“Oh,” Peter said simply. He could hardly meet his best friend’s eyes, instead going to tug the collar of his sweatshirt away from his body. “Hi, Ned.”

“Are you good? You're a little...jumpy.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Peter forced a smile, doing his best to make eye contact despite the nervousness flooding his whole system. “I'm fine.”

Ned looked skeptical, but thankfully didn't push the issue. If he noticed Peter’s chest, he did a good job of pretending he didn't. Instead, he rushed off into a conversation about a video game he'd recently bought. Peter had, of course, already heard about this video game, but listened to Ned blabber on anyway. He did his best to listen, but it was hard to pull his mind from the matter of his chest.

They had to part far too soon, and before he knew it, Peter was sitting in first period English with all of zero friends around him. The teacher was trying way too hard to start up a PowerPoint when he heard someone.

“_Psssssst. Psssssssst!_”

Peter turned to see Flash looking at him and grinning.

“Hey, Parker,” he said. “You decide to be a girl again?”

Peter felt his throat close up and his stomach twist. He turned away from Flash and tried to focus on the board.

“I mean, it's fine. Hope you enjoy looking like a dyke.” Peter tried his best not to let his fists clench. He bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to leave a mark and started playing around with his pencil. He could do this. He could do this.

By the time he was in third period biology, he was sure he couldn't. At this point, Flash’s buddies had gotten in on the action too, throwing both homophobic and transphobic slurs in his direction. Luckily, MJ was in this class, and she was more than happy to throw back some less-than-kind comments.

“They're really going after you today, huh?” Ned asked at lunch, sliding Peter a Snapple.

Peter just nodded. He didn't want his voice to break in front of Ned and MJ. It couldn't. He took some deep breaths and tried to stop his leg from shaking.

“Why don't you just ditch?” MJ asked. Ned’s eyebrows raised. “What? No one could blame you, not after today.”

“Principal Morita could,” Peter replied dejectedly. He dug the heels of his hands into his forehead, running his fingers through him hair. “The only reason I'm here today is because of that stupid probation. May would've had to be late for work to come in and she can't afford that right now.”

Ned and MJ said nothing. MJ simply reached for his hand. Peter took her hand and squeezed it hard. She didn't mind.

When the trio walked into gym, Peter heard the voice he'd been dreading.

“Hey, Penis Parker!” Flash called, earning some laughs from his friends. They weren't even laughing because it was funny, Peter knew. It was just because they were assholes. “Is your dick gonna fall off again?”

Peter flushed bright red, remembering the day that would give Flash the ultimate ammo. It was back when Peter had first gotten a packer and wasn't too good at...placing it yet. During a particularly intense game of basketball, it had slipped down his pants and just...fallen out. Flash had never let it go since.

“Yours might, if you keep talking,” MJ shot back. She kept moving, silently urging Peter to not even look at Flash.

It was when they lined up for attendance that Peter couldn't take it anymore.

“Peter?” the coach called.

Without hesitation, Flash shouted Peter’s deadname. He froze. That single word hit him like a tidal wave and threatened to knock him over completely.

Peter didn't even say anything as he walked off. Fuck Flash. Fuck school. Fuck probation. He was getting out of this hellhole, no matter the consequences.

“Hey!” the coach called half-heartedly.

“Peter!” Ned cried out.

But then it was all behind him. Peter sprinted to his locker, grabbed his backpack, and ran out the doors. The streets were filled with foot traffic and he bumped shoulders with everyone he passed. Dysphoria flooded through him. Did they see him as a boy? How were they thinking of him in their heads? Was he passing?

He turned into the nearest alleyway and ran down it. Quickly, he shed his clothes and didn't look down. He pulled on his suit and webbed his bag to the wall before swinging off.

Peter would never stop being grateful for the binder Tony had installed in his suit. It was specially designed for Peter to look flat while not over-exerting himself with physical activity. The tightness on his chest washed some of his anxiety away. But Flash’s words remained.

“Hello, Peter,” Karen said cheerfully. “It is 1:24pm. Is there a reason why you aren't at school?”

“It's fine, Karen,” Peter said simply, swinging around a building.

“Should I notify Mr. Stark?”

“No!” Peter exclaimed. “I promise you, Karen, it's nothing.”

“Alright.”

The hours snuck by and Peter started to see notifications appear in the corner of his vision. Some from Ned and MJ, asking how he was doing. One from May appeared, asking where he was and what was going on. He kept swinging.

“Peter, Aunt May is calling you,” Karen said. “Would you like me to answer?”

“No, thanks,” Peter replied. A few minutes later she called again. And again.

Finally, a text from Mr. Stark: _Kid, where are you?_

Peter swung up on top of a building and sat down. He removed his mask and sighed, looking at the beautiful view of the sunset. He could still see Flash’s sneer, hear his insults and laughter. Peter started to feel sick again and shut his eyes as tight as he could.

It wasn't long before he heard telltale thrusters and a metal clank behind him. Footsteps. The man standing behind him sighed.

“You know, when I got off the plane, I was expecting a surprise. I wasn't, however, expecting this.”

Peter said nothing.

“Kid, hey.”

Slowly, Peter turned and faced his mentor. Tony looked down at him, no anger or disappointment present on his face whatsoever.

“You wanna tell me what's going on?”

Just like that, Peter broke. He couldn't stop the tears flowing from behind his eyes or the choked sobs coming from his throat. All he could do was cover his face and cry and wait for it all to stop.

Tony sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Peter took that as an offer of comfort and accepted his, wrapping his arms around Tony in a tight hug.

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter said once he could speak again. “Today was supposed to be perfect, and we had a cake and decorations and everything! And I haven't seen you or Happy in months, and I wanted to celebrate and—and instead, I made it all about me.”

Tony placed his hands firmly on Peter’s shoulders. “Kid, look at me.”

Peter did. He looked wrecked, eyes red-rimmed and tear tracks on his face.

“You do not have _anything_ to apologize for, you hear me? I just want to know what's going on. It's not like you to skip school, and as soon as May told me, I just got...worried.” _Worried_ was something of an understatement, considering Tony’s earlier cursing, pacing, and hair-pulling at the news.

“It's...it's just school stuff,” Peter tried to cover up. “I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it, and—”

“Kid, I love you to death, but you are a shitty liar, you know that?”

Peter couldn't help but smile and start to laugh. Tony wouldn't have been afraid to say it warmed his heart.

“I really am, aren't I?” Peter giggled.

“The worst.” Tony ruffled his hair without even thinking. Peter didn't seem to object. “How you managed to keep Spider-Man from Aunt May so long is—”

Peter laughed loudly and Tony did too. When they'd quieted down again, Peter finally felt ready to talk.

“This morning, all of my binders were in the wash so I couldn't bind. Some of the kids kind of...got after me for it.”

“Got after you how?” Tony pushed. “If they hurt you, I'll—”

“No, no! Nothing like that!” Peter cut in. “They just...call me names, slurs, misgender me. One of them even pulled out my deadname.”

Peter felt Tony tense, but before he could try to backpedal, his mentor relaxed. Tony put his arm around Peter again.

“I'm really sorry that you have to go through that,” Tony said. “Peter, listen to me when I say that you are _ten times_ the man that kid is, okay? I think he knows it too, and it scares him.”

Peter was floored. Tony Stark, his mentor, his hero, thought he was ten times the man Flash was. Tony thought he was a good man. Peter felt himself tearing up for the last time today, only this time it wasn't out of anger. Peter wrapped his arms around Tony for another hug, and Tony happily hugged back.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anytime.”

They stayed like that for a moment before they pulled away from each other.

“You know, if we hurry home, Happy and May _might_ not have eaten all the cake yet,” Tony said, standing and stretching.

Peter grinned and stood as well. “It's good to see you, Mr. Stark.”

“It's good to see you too, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> I...haven't posted in over a year and I'm terribly sorry. My motivation is somewhat fleeting at times but I might actually pick up my other works again. Thank you for reading this, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
